The Narrow Theme of Love
by MsLane19
Summary: Ravens come from the Wall bringing news of Lord Commander Snow's death, and Roslin Stark remembers Jon/Roslin/Robb/Jeyne triangle fic. Adultry.
1. Chapter 1: Roslin

A/N:

For SecondStarOnTheLeft. I know, I know, I should be working on His Mother's Son. And I am, I promise. But I am trying to incorporate some of the constructive feedback I recieved and so everything is slow going. Also, Roslin plotbunnies everywhere. This is angsty...

* * *

The raven arrived from the Wall in the morning. It had been written in Samwell Tarly's hand. She had known even before Robb told her it's contents what it would say. She had known, somewhere inside her heart, the moment he had left her, left their children. Of course the children only thought that they were grieving for an uncle. Well, perhaps Benjen knew, her dear, sweet quiet boy who was so like his father it made her wonder that no one had said anything about it. He had Jon's ability to see things that other people didn't.

She thought that perhaps, the fact that all of Jeyne's children were dark like she was, save for Robb's bright, Tully blue eyes, was the reason that no one took notice of the fact that her eldest child and her youngest were the only ones of her children who looked like their supposed father. That her other three were more Stark than anything else seemed to slip past the eyes of the court. But then, people see what they wish to see, that much has always been true.

* * *

The first time she met Jon, she was six moons into her pregnancy with Edd.

She was standing beside her husband in the yard when the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch and his men rode in. Jeyne had not been there, Robb may have brought her and her newborn son to Winterfell but he at least had the decency to keep her away during important occasions such as this. She had still been acutely aware of the fact that it was Jeyne that her husband would rather be introducing to his brother as his queen, not his little Frey wife who he had wed for a bridge.

She'd watched as her good brother leaped down from his horse, laughing as he embraced Robb with vigor.

_"I heard you were captured by wildlings and lived to tell the tale!" Her husband said, his voice filled with joy at the sight of his brother. "I guess you were right brother, we Starks are rather hard to kill."_

_Her good brother smiled. "I'm no Stark Robb." "Oh really? I believe I signed a paper that says otherwise."_

_Jon looked as though he would say something in return, but then his grey eyes caught her's and he stilled. Robb looked back and motioned her forward with a tight smile._

_"Ah, yes. Jon this is Roslin, my... my wife. Roslin dearest, this is Jon."_

_She extended her hand "Welcome back to Winterfell Commander Snow, it is pleasure to have you with us. I'm sure you have missed your home."_

_Jon kissed her hand and smiled, "The Wall is my home now, but yes, I have missed Winterfell. And if I may say your Grace, my brother is a lucky man indeed to have such a lovely queen."_

_'It would seem as though you are the only one who thinks so my Lord' She thought to herself. Outwardly, she smiled and thanked her good brother for his complement. She knew that he would see the truth of her marriage to the King in the North before the night was through._

That night, a feast had been held in Jon's honor. Jeyne never sat beside Robb during the meals, Robb had the good sense at least not to undermine her position as queen by honoring his mistress above her, but that night Robb had left the daise to retrieve Jeyne and her son. Roslin had sat as still as stone as the entire hall watched him bring Jeyne Westerling and her son up to the daise to introduce them to his brother. Robb had made a point to never show any public displays of affection towards Jeyne. There was an unspoken agreement between them, she would turn a blind eye to the fact that he was sharing another woman's bed, and he would keep his desire for her hidden behind locked doors and in the back hallways of the castle. That he would suddenly break their agreement and introduce Jeyne and her son to Jon in front of the entire court was humiliating. Beside her, Sansa had reached over to take her by the hand.

_"Jon! This is Lady Jeyne Westerling of the Craig. Jeyne, this is my brother Jon Snow, the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch."_

_Jeyne smiled and curtsied as Jon looked at her curiously. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance my lord. Robb speaks of you quite often."_

_Jon's eyebrows raised at Jeyne's obvious familiarity with his brother. Roslin wondered that he didn't know who she was. She thought that everyone had heard the stories of the King in the North's Westerling whore, who he had brought to Winterfell because he preferred her company over that of his wife, who is obviously the true Queen in the North, not the timid little Frey of the Twins who he so readily casts aside. She thought everyone knew that it is widely believed that it would be better for Queen Roslin to die in the birthing bed when her time comes rather than live in such shame._

_But Jon obviously didn't, he'd obviously thought that he would come to Winterfell and see his brother happily married with an heir on the way. And now as Robb introduces Jeyne's son Brandon, a babe of six months, she sees the understanding dawn in his eyes and then a brief flash of shock and disappointment mixed with anger before he hides his emotions behind a mask of ice_.

* * *

She had heard about the fight the two of them had had that night, Jon yelling at his brother about honor and duty and what their Father would have said, with Robb yelling right back about how their father would have understood (She'd heard that Lady Cat had gone white at that, her lips pursed and fists clenched as she'd left the room) and that Jon should understand as well.

She had wondered at that herself, why Jon was siding with her and Lady Cat when Jeyne and her child were in the same position that he and his mother had been in.

She was able to ask him herself the next day.

* * *

_It was becoming more and more difficult to go about her duties each day as her pregnancy progressed. Lady Cat had suggested that she relinquish her duites and rest more, but Roslin was not about to do that. Her husband may love and honor another woman, but she is still Queen in the North and she will not have it said that she doesn't do her duty. She may be her mother's child, but if she ever inherited one thing from her father it was pride. She would not be pitied._

_As she left the kitchens, having just finished discussing the preparations for the evening meal, she stopped a moment to lean against the wall and and catch her breath. She ran her hand over her swollen belly as the babe kicked at her again. Once she regained her strength she began to make her way to the laundry, only to stop short as she turned a corner to find her husband pushing Jeyne up against a wall, kissing her passionately as he pulled her skirts up._

_She immediately turned back around, moving as fast as she could in the opposite direction (which wasn't very fast in her condition) trying to ignore the passionate moans coming from the corridor behind her. Suddenly, the door in front of her opened and she ran smack into Jon Snow._

_"Your Grace? Are you well? You look pale." Jon said as he reached for her arms as though to guide her in the direction of a chair (there weren't any, but it was the thought that counted.)_

_"I'm fine Commander, it is nothing truely." Roslin said, then closed her eyes as the sound of Jeyne's cry of "Oh Robb!" echoed down the corridor._

_There was a flash of understanding in Jon's eyes and suddenly her good brother looked as ill as she felt._

_Jon made to move in the direction the sounds were coming from, but Roslin put her hand on his chest to stop him. "Don't Jon, It doesn't matter." She steeled herself under his gaze, she would not be pitied. Robb may love another woman and she may only be the sixth daughter of Walder Frey, but she was Queen in the North and she was stronger than she seemed. "It won't help anything. Just...help me? I feel tired, I need to rest. Help me to my solar, please."_

_It took some time, but they finally reached her rooms. Jon helped her to her chair than stood awkwardly before her, as though unsure of what to do next. Smiling, she motioned for him to take a seat._

_She took up her sewing as he sat down, and she tried to focus on her work as Jon fidgeted beside her. Finally, Jon asked, "Is it for the babe?", motioning toward the blanket in her hands._

_"Aye, it is." She said smiling, spreading it out over what was left of her lap so he could see._

_Jon ran his fingers over the quilt. She had been quite creative with the pattern. The background was the blue sky and white snow, with the grey towers of the Twins. In front of the towers was a howling grey direwolf. Jon smiled, "It looks like Grey Wind."_

_ Roslin nodded, pleased with herself. Grey Wind liked her well enough, even if his master didn't. Jeyne had never taken to the wolves, but Grey Wind and Shaggy Dog would sit by her feet as she sewed, went over the inventory and supplies, or simply enjoyed a good book. Now that Jon's Ghost was here though, the wolves were spending a great deal of time in the Godswood. She rather missed her companions though._

_"Do you like it?" She asked._

_"It will be perfect for him." Jon said as he gave her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes._

_Roslin sighed as she folded the blanket back up. She knew Jon was pitying her now, that he was wondering how she could bear to sit here sewing a blanket for a child whose father was currently in some back hall making love to another woman._

_"Do you know the story of why I married Robb?"_

_Jon looked uncomfortable. "The deal between my brother and your father yes? He would marry you when the war was done in exchange for passage?"_

_Roslin shook her head. "The deal was that he would marry one of my father's daughters. Up until the ending of the war, it was one of my nieces, Fair Walda, who was going to wed him."_

_"What happened?" Jon asked, suprised. He had not heard the story then._

_"My brother Olyvar was Robb's squire. He threw himself between Robb and an arrow at the Battle for Kings Landing. Robb came to see him on his death bed, asked him if there was anything he could do. Olyvar said 'Marry my sister. Her name is Roslin, and she deserves better than the life my father would give her.'" Roslin looked down at her hands, "Sometimes I wish he hadn't asked that."_

_"He must have loved you very much, to think of you in that moment." Jon said awkwardly._

_"Yes he did. And I loved him." She looked back up at her good brother. "You remind me of him." Jon blushed._

_"Robb married me for Olyvar's sake. He married me under the assumption that he was rescuing me from some horrible life of servitude. Which, perhaps he was. But I would rather have servitude and have love, than to be Queen in the North and have a husband who gives all of his love to someone else." She felt bold, rash even to be telling Jon these things. She never showed her weakness to Sansa or to Lady Cat. They pitied her enough, she did not need anymore of their pity. But when she looked into Jon's eyes, she didn't see pity. She saw someone who understood._

_ "Why do you care? About how Robb treats me, how he behaves with Jeyne, why do you care?" She caught his eye, "I would have thought that you of all people would understand his desire to keep her and Brandon close."_

_Jon flushes and turns away. He gets up to move towards the door and she thinks that maybe she'd offended him._

_"My father may have brought me home from Dorne. But he did not bring my mother home."_

_They say that Ashara Dayne threw herself into the sea after your father left with you. Perhaps Robb wished to prevent such a tragedy."_

_Jon looks at her for a long moment, "Perhaps he did. But that doesn't make it right. You are his wife, not Jeyne Westerling."_

That had been the moment that sealed their friendship, which sealed their fate. Jon was her friend and confident, her one ally who she could truly rely on.

It had been innocent at first. He was her friend. Nothing more.

She hadn't meant to fall in love with him.

* * *

A/N 2: For anyone who feels that Robb is being portrayed in an unrealistic light: I am one of those people who believe that a man can be a good man and still be an idiot. Robb to me seems like the person who will try to do the right thing, but still be led astray by his own feelings.  
The next chapter will be from his point of view.


	2. Chapter 2:Robb

He'd gone to the Godswood when he recieved the word of Jon's death.

His relationship with his brother had become strained as the years had passed, but nothing could change the fact that Jon had been his brother, his friend.

Roslin had not wept when he told her, but then he'd not expected her too. She had built a wall between the two of them, he didn't think that she had ever let him see her cry. But the light in her eyes had gone out, and the woman in front of him had been the pale, lonely shadow that she'd been before Jon had made her happy.

He used to blame them for the way things were, blamed Roslin for giving up on him, Jon for taking away his chance at redeeming himself, but the truth was, it had all started with him. It had been his fault from the very beginning.

It hadn't been his intention to bring Jeyne to Winterfell, but he'd wanted Brandon with him, and Jeyne would not be parted from him. He'd kept his distance from her at first, but slowly he'd fallen into a routine with her, spending his time with her and Brandon, getting to know his son, getting to know Jeyne.

It had been an accident when he'd taken her maidenhead, and it had been an accident the first time he betrayed his marriage vows.

* * *

_He walked down the darkened corridors to the rooms where Jeyne and Brandon were staying. He'd left the council meeting and thought that perhaps he might say goodnight to his son, the way he remembered his father saying it to him. As he pushed oped the door, he was taken aback by the sight in front of him._

_Jeyne was sitting by the fire, her breast bare as she nursed their son. The firelight played on her skin, and her startled eyes looked larger and darker than usual. Her long brown curls hung about her shoulders, and Robb felt his breath catch in his throat. He'd never seen a more beautiful sight._

_"Your Grace, I wasn't expecting you." She said calmly, though a slight tremble in her voice betrayed her nervousness._

_He sat down across from her. "I wished to say goodnight to him. I'm sorry, I should've knocked._

They had talked for time as Brandon nursed, he'd asked how she fared, if there was anything she needed. She had laughed softly and told him that they were quite comfortable, thank you.

It had happened when she had finished feeding Brandon and layed him in his crib. She'd moved to close her dress, but something had made him move and suddenly his hand was moving down her neck, down her chest, down the edge of the open neck of her gown. Then his mouth was on hers, and his hands were pulling at her clothing, and her hands were in his hair, and they were lips meeting and hands touching, pulses racing, skin on skin.

He had woken up in the morning feeling guilty and ashamed. Jeyne had refused to look at him.

He'd gone to Roslin that night, fallen asleep with his head pressed against her swelling belly, listening to his son's heart beat, trying to find it in himself to fight the desires he had.

But that had been the beginning. There had been no going back.

Everyone had tried to talk to him, everyone had tried to tell him that what he was doing was not only hurting Roslin, but it was hurting Jeyne as well.

_"They whisper about her Robb." Sansa had said, "They call her your whore, you are hurting her reputation, I though you wanted her to be able to have a life of her own."_

_"You're hurting both of them Robb. You should send Jeyne back to the Craig. Roslin is your wife and you should respect her." His mother had been less sympathetic to Jeyne's plight than she was to Roslin's._

Jon had been furious with him when he'd found out. Roslin had been the only one not to say anything. She had borne it all with a mask of indifference. He didn't realize how much he'd hurt her until she almost died giving birth to Edd.

* * *

_It was the screaming that was killing him. Mother and Sansa were both with her, but she was still screaming, sobbing for her mother who was long gone._

_It had been hours and hours of waiting, watching, listening. The maester had said that the babe was turned wrong, that Roslin was too small to bear the pain of labor, that it was possible she wouldn't make it. His first thought when he said that had been of Jeyne, how he might be able to marry her, and he felt so sick at himself that he had left the room and gone to the godswood._

_"Please, don't take her. I know I don't deserve her, but please don't take her. I haven't kept my promise to Olyvar, I know, but please don't take her."_

Sansa had found him there, on his knees in front of the heart tree. She'd placed her hand on his shoulder and told him the Roslin was fine and his son was fine. He had never been more relieved.

* * *

After that, Jeyne became distant. It had been building for sometime, she had always been more aware of what they were doing than he had. She'd agreed to move to a small house near Deepwood Motte, but when he went to visit her she had thrown him out after yelling at him. He still remembered every word she'd said.

_"I am not a whore Your Grace! I am not a whore. I will not be treated like one."_

_"I know! I know your not, and I'm sorry they think of you that way, but Jeyne I love you and I want to be with you!"_

_"It's not enough." Jeyne looked at him with angry brown eyes. "Don't you see what you've done? Bringing us here? You should have let us stay at the Craig!"_

_He lost his temper at that, "I didn't force you to come! You could've stayed behind!"_

_"And let you take my son from me? You demanded that I let Brandon be brought up at Winterfell, and you wanted him to come to you before he was even weaned! My mother told me to just send a nurse with him, but he is my son too Robb! My son! And you just expected me to let him go?"_

_He didn't have anything to say to that, he'd honestly not thought much about Jeyne's feelings on the matter beyond the fact that it would relieve her of the burden of raising a bastard son if he took Brandon. That without that burden she might be able to make a decent match, have a husband and family, although the thought of another man touching her was enough to make him blind with jealousy._

_But she was Brandon's mother, and her own future had not been in her mind when she made the choice to come with him to Winterfell. She was just a mother who did not wish to be parted from her son._

_Jeyne was sitting with her head in her hands, he'd made her cry. "We would have been fine Robb, we could've been fine without you. I would've been fine without you. We didn't need you."_

He'd had left then, and he hadn't spoken to her at all for months, only sent a message to her through the maester to tell her when he wished to see Brandon. Sometimes those messages were months apart. He had never been more ashamed of himself.

His mother had stopped speaking to him about Jeyne, but when he'd told her of his decision to move her to the house she had sighed in relief.

_"I was hoping you would do something. You couldn't continue to keep her here, the court was beginning to see the dissention in the family. Perhaps now you and Roslin can work on building your marriage."_

And he had tried, gods he had tried.

He had spent as much time with Roslin and their son as he could, but everytime Roslin would smile softly, her eyes bright with concealed laughter, he would think of how Jeyne would nearly burst with laughter over the same thing. When she would hum softly to Edd as she rocked him, he would think of Jeyne twirling about the room with Brandon in her arms as she sang to him.

Everything Roslin did, she did differently than Jeyne. And he resented her for it. And he hated himself for resenting her.

* * *

Edd was ten months old when he tried to visit Jeyne again. Maybe it was because she was just as lonely for him as he was for her, but she let him in. He sat and played with Brandon, now over a year old, as Jeyne tended to the small garden she had made behind the house he'd given them.

He'd stayed passed supper, and then put Brandon to bed with a story his father had once told him.

He had said goodbye to her and was turning to leave when he stopped and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. One kiss, that turned into two, that became ten, and then he was pushing her against the door of her room, and then he forgot all about leaving.

He stayed a week under the pretence of meeting with the Glover's about some dispute. When he came back, Jon was there. He had expected his brother to be angry with him, to tell him again that he was being dishonorable, but Jon had been unable to meet his eye, let alone tell him that he was wrong.

He hadn't understood it until nine months later when Benjen was born, and Roslin placed him in his arms.

Benjen was Jon's, and Robb had known from the moment he saw him. Black hair and grey eyes, there was never any doubt. He'd gone to see Jeyne the next day.

_"What are you doing here." She demanded before he even got off his horse. "You shouldn't be here, not now."_

_"Benjen is Jon's."_

_"What?"_

_He took her by the shoulders. "The boy Roslin just gave birth to is not my son. He's Jon's. Gods Jeyne, he's my brother's son."_

_She was quiet for a while, just standing there looking at him._

_"So she found her own happiness then. She finally stopped waiting for you. Good for her, would to the gods I could do the same." And then she kissed him._

* * *

"Papa?"

Robb looked up to see Bethany standing in front of him. After three of Jon's children, Roslin had given birth to a beautiful baby girl with dark red curls, and Roslin's brown eyes. She was his only daughter, Jeyne had only had boys and Arya was Jon's, and his three year old princess was the light of his life.

"What is it little one? What's the matter with Papa's princess?"

She crawled up onto his lap, "Is Uncle Jon really never coming back?"

"Yes sweetling, Uncle Jon has gone to stay with Grandmother and Grandfather." He didn't say Aunt Arya and Uncle Brandon, because even after all this time, they still hoped to find the two missing Starks.

"Mama will be sad then." Bethany said solemly.

"Yes, Mama will be sad. But we will try to make her happy."

'Yes, we will try.' He thought. ' I'll be good to her Jon, I'll be good to them, to Benjen and Olyvar and Arya. I'll take care of them. I promise.'

* * *

A/N: And there you have it.  
Now, Sam is going to have the next chapter, and then I'm not sure what exactly I'm gonna do next, but this story is being told from the POV of people who are alive at the time of Jon's death, so Cat will not be having a POV chapter.  
Jeyne probably won't have a chapter, Sansa might if I can be brave enough to write it. I will either do one chapter from Roslin's son Benjen's POV or just go ahead and end it with another Roslin chapter after that.


	3. Chapter 3: Sansa

A/N: So I know I said that Sam's chapter would come first, but Sansa was so persistent she just spilled out onto the page and I couldn't do a thing about it. Let me know what you thought of this chapter, I look forward to reading your comments.

When the letter arrived, she was sitting in the gardens watching the children play. Willas had come behind her and stood leaning on his cane. When he'd handed the letter to her without saying anything, she known that something was wrong.

She'd never imagined that it would be Jon.

Dear Jon who looked so like her father, who was everything that she remembered Ned Stark being...

She sat at her desk attempting to write a letter to her brother, but all she could think was that there was someone else who needed her comfort more than Robb.

She had known about Roslin's relationship with Jon since it began.

Because she had been there at the beginning, she had been the silent witness to their start.

* * *

_ It had been two days since Jon and his company had arrived to find Robb missing._

_He'd sent word to them saying that his business with the Glovers was taking longer than he thought, that he would join them when he could, but they all knew what was really going on._

_Sansa had watched as mother pursed her lips and closed her eyes as though in pain, Rickon had frowned but then shrugged it off (He was still young, he knew that something was wrong just not what), and Jon had looked as though he would grab his horse and ride out to haul Robb back by the scruff of his neck. Only Roslin had remained calm, hiding the pain in her eyes with a sweet smile and a gentle hand on Jon's arm as she bade him come see how Edd was learning to walk._

_Sansa sighed as she walked towards the library, she had run into Samwell Tarly who'd told her that she would find Roslin there. He'd also made as though to say something, an uncomfortable look on his face as though he wasn't sure she should go looking for her._

_As Sansa rounded the corner, she realized why. Roslin was arguing with someone and as she drew closer she could see that it was Jon..._

_"All my life I have done the honorable thing, the right thing. I have been the obedient daughter, the blind, submissive wife, and what has that done for me? Nothing. Nothing Jon." Roslin was standing right in front of Jon whose back was pressed up against a shelf. He appeared to be distressed, sweat on his brow and his hands clenched at his sides._

_"All I have ever wanted was a little happiness of my own. But the world doesn't give happiness to women like me. If we want it, we have to take it." And with that, she leaned forward and captured his lips with her own._

_Sansa wanted to leave, to turn and walk away, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight in front of her. She watched as Jon let out a strangled moan, his arms rising even as he clenched his fists tighter to keep from touching his brother's wife._

_She watched as Roslin ran her fingers through Jon's hair, kissing him until finally he responded, his fingers gripping her hips with bruising force as he pulled her flush against him._

_It was only when Jon moved so that Roslin's back was against the shelves, his lips moving down her neck as his hand moved under her skirts, that she finally tore herself away._

* * *

Sansa had run away, confused and distressed. She hadn't been sure what to do at the time, so she'd kept quiet. But she'd watched them.

She'd watched as the quiet, reserved, unhappy sister that she'd known transformed into a smiling, laughing woman, a woman so obviously touched by love. She'd watched at night as well, when Roslin had slipped out of her chambers and made her way down the hall to Jon's, unseen by all save for Sansa's curious eyes. She'd watched when Robb finally returned, and Jon's guilt nearly betrayed them and the light in Roslin's eyes had faded. It never faded completely, but whenever Jon left Roslin was less than what she was when he was there.

She hadn't known what to do, she didn't know if she should tell anyone, or confront Roslin, but Roslin's words kept playing over and over in her mind. She knew what it was to have dreams, dreams for your future. And then to have those dreams crushed. Joffrey and Cersei had crushed her dreams so thoroughly that at that time, when she'd been burdened with such dangerous knowledge, she'd been certain that those dreams were gone forever. It wasn't until she'd met Willas that those dreams came back to life.

In many ways, she and Roslin were very much a like, and it was because of that understanding that she had kept her goodsister's secret.

She had kept the fact that she knew their secret to herself. She'd kept it for four months, and then Robb announced Roslin's second pregnancy.

* * *

_ Roslin had been smiling during the feast, the image of joy and happiness to all who happened to look, but Sansa had become adept at seeing past the masks that people wore, and there was a mixture of fear, worry, sadness in her goodsister's eyes._

_She'd followed Roslin out of the hall whe her sister had left, stating that she was weary and in need of rest. As she pushed open the door to the Queen's chambers she saw that Roslin was at her desk, apparently attempting to write a letter._

_She watched as Roslin tore up the paper and threw it into the fire and turned to make another attempt._

_"Are you writing to Jon?" She asked. Roslin started and quickley covered the missive._

_"I...Sansa...I didn't see you...why would I be writing to Jon?"_

_Sansa sat herself at the edge of the desk and took Roslin's hand in hers. "Because you think that there is a possibility that this child is his."_

_Roslin pulled back as though struck, fear and panic evident in her features. "How? How did you..."_

_"I was there that day, outside the library. I saw..." She paused as Roslin's face crumpled in anguish. "I won't tell anyone Roslin, you have nothing to fear. I know what it is to be denied happiness, and I am happy that you have found yours even if it isn't...well...right."_

_Roslin looked at her with such relief and thankfullness, Sansa almost wept for her. "Thank you." She heard her whisper. "But I'm afraid...if the child is Jon's...it won't look like Robb...and if it looks more like Jon than me our secret will be out anyway."_

_"Your husband is a Stark, and the child will be a Stark, just as his father will be a Stark. That is all that matters. And Robb will not begrudge you happiness." At least, Sansa thought, I would hope he wouldn't. But then, no one was really sure what it was that went through her brother's head these days._

_"But your mother..." Roslin protested. "What will Lady Catelyn say?"_

_Sansa looked her in the eyes, "You leave my lady mother to me. I will take care of it."_

* * *

She'd kept her word. When Roslin's child was born the image of Jon Snow, she'd taken care of it.

She'd known that her mother knew, and somewhere in the back of her mind Roslin had had an inkling, but Lady Catelyn had never shown any sign of knowing the truth of Benjen's parentage. If her smiles had not been quite as ready with Roslin's younger boys, it was never mentioned. And if she had been slow to love little Arya, it was counted as grief for the first Arya who had never returned home.

Sansa had confronted her mother with the truth of Roslin's situation, and her mother kept her opinions to herself to the day she died.

_"That child is second in line to the throne and he isn't even Robb's!"_

_"No, he's not." Sansa replied, "But he's still a Stark."_

_Her mother turned away, "Jon Snow is not a Stark."_

_"Jon Snow is Jon Stark now, Robb saw to that, and even if Benjen is his bastard and not Robb's trueborn son, you cannot begrudge Roslin this happiness!" She took her mother's hands in hers. "How would you have felt, if father had brought Ashara Dayne home along with Jon? Would you have been happy owning only half his heart. Roslin has less than half of Robb's. Can you blame her for seeking a love of her own?"_

_Lady Catelyn had been silent for a few moments before sighing as she turned away, "No. No I cannot blame her for that."_

* * *

Sansa sighed as she put away her letter to Robb. That letter could wait, there was another more important letter that needed to be written...

_My Dearest Roslin,_

_I was heartbroken to hear the news of our beloved Jon's passing. I hope you know that my thoughts and prayers are with you during this time of mourning..._


	4. Chapter 4: Sam

**A/N 1:** So this is it.  
Chapter 4.  
Let me know what you think. I'll be honest, I kind of hate myself for writing this fic.

* * *

They buried him the morning after his passing.  
Sam still couldn't believe that he was gone. Jon was one of the greatest rangers he'd ever known, the greatest brother he'd ever had.  
'If only he hadn't been so stubborn.'

Jon had taken some of the men out ranging, and they'd been attacked by wildlings.  
No one had known that Jon was injured until he'd collapsed in the courtyard on his return. By then the wound had become infected, and his body was soon wracked with fever, his eyes glazed.

His mind had left him on the second day and Sam had quickley forbidden anyone but Satin and himself from entering. The Lord Commander of the Night's Watch had secrets and Satin was the only one Sam trusted not to take advantage of the knowledge gained from Jon's fevered ramblings.

_Sam turned as Satin came through the door with the roots he had sent for._

_"How is he?" The squire asked as he handed the jar to Sam and grabbed the cloth from the bowl to wipe Jon's brow._

_"Worse, the fever is moving too fast."_

_"He's going to die isn't he?"_

_Sam couldn't answer, it hurt to think that for all the skill that he'd accquired there was nothing he could do for his friend._

_"Ros...Roslin...Roslin..." Jon's voice was raspy, his breath coming in gasps._

_"He's calling for her again." Satin said quietly, "If only she was just some village girl, we could've sent for her, she could have been with him."_

_"But she's not." Sam said sharply, "She's the Queen and nothing that has been said in this room can leave it."_

_Satin looked hurt. "You think I would do that to him?"_

_"No...No I don't. I'm sorry." Sam sighed and rubbed the crease between his eyes. "Its just that..."_

_"You feel helpless. He's dying and you can't do anything about it and you feel helpless." Satin's eyes were filled with the same pain and desperation that Sam felt. "Believe me Maester, I know."_

Jon's suffering had lasted a day more. He'd called for Roslin, for his children (he'd called the name Arya several times but Sam could not tell when it was he called for his daughter and when he called for the sister who was long lost to him), he'd called for his father, and in the end he'd called for Robb. That had been the most troubling, as he'd mistaken Sam for his brother.

_"Robb...Robb...sorry...so sorry...promise me..." Jon was pulling at him, grabbing his arm, pulling him close with a hand behind his neck. "Promise me you will...take...care...promise me...Roslin...Ben...Olyvar...Arya...promise me..."_

_"I promise Jon. I promise." He said comfortingly. He meant every word he said. Jon's children would be looked after, that much was certain. And Roslin. He wasn't sure how he would be able to tell her of her lover's last moments, but he would need to tell her._

_Once Jon heard his promise, he sunk back against the bed in relief, his body relaxing against the pillows.  
"Roslin." He called. "Roslin." And then he was gone._

Sam shook himself. He was getting lost in his grief and there was work to be done. He busied himself with his duties until he was interrupted by Satin.

"You sent the raven off?"

"Yes, this morning after we buried him."

"Did you write to her as well?"

Sam looked up. "You know I can't do that. It wouldn't...it would be odd...people would talk. We cannot risk it."

"But they loved each other, she deserves to know!" Satin sounded frustrated.

"You think I don't know that? She's my friend, they were both my friends. I want to tell her, but I cannot do that in a raven."

Satin frowned at him for a moment before the understanding sunk in. "You mean to go to Winterfell."

"The Watch has lost it's commander who was the king's brother, and we are low on supplies. I think a visit to Winterfell is in order don't you?"

Satin smiled. "Aye, I do."

* * *

The journey to Winterfell was long and arduous, and Sam found himself thinking too much...about the past, about Jon...and Roslin. As his mind wandered through memories he found himself thinking of the first time he truly saw Roslin Stark for who she was, the first time he'd called her friend, the first time he'd realized that the man he called brother was in love with her.

_"Are you looking for anything in particular Maester?"_

_Sam turned with a start to find the queen standing in the doorway to the Winterfell library with a soft smile on her face._

_Everything about Queen Roslin seemed...soft. Soft and sad. She had a gentle smile and a calm, graceful demeanor that hid the intense sadness and lonliness from the court, but Sam could see. Sam had been lonely and sad once, before he'd joined the watch and met Jon and Pyp and Grenn and Satin..._

_He knew he wasn't the only one to see. Jon knew something of lonliness as well, and Sam could see the understanding in his eyes whenever he looked at his good sister._

_"No your majesty, I was just looking to see if there was something that I have not yet read. It is always nice to find new reading material."_

_Queen Roslin was walking down the line of books toward him, one of her hands trailing along along the spines. "Please Sam, there is no need for formality. Call me Roslin." She smiled at him and it was a the first real smile he had seen from her, lightening her brown eyes with a quiet happiness that was so often missing from her._

_"Books are such wonderful things don't you agree?"_

_Sam nodded, "Yes, as a boy they were my greatest friends. I wanted to be a wizard and fight battles and be heroic." He turned to look at her, "You see, I wasn't any good at sword play, but I thought that I would be rather good with a wizard's staff."_

_Roslin laughed, then leaned forward conspiratorially, "I wanted to be a witch."_

_Sam felt his eyebrows lift. "Really? No offence your maj- Roslin, but you seem more like the..."_

_"Like the sort of girl who would have dreamed of a prince coming to carry her away? I did at first, but then I realized that princes didn't come looking for ladies like me. They rescued maidens like Lady Tyrell or Princess Myrcella...and even then, the stories don't tell you about what comes after the maiden's been rescued. They don't tell you how she finds herself in another tower, in another keep..."_

_Roslin was looking at the book shelves with a faraway look in her eyes. "I would sit in the library at the Twins for hours reading book after book, dreaming of one day leaving and going to all of those places...Braavos, Tyrosh, Lysene... I didn't want to be rescued by a prince only to be locked away again inside of a different sort of cage."_

_Sam looked away, the words hanging unspoken on the air between them, the truth that said that that was exactly what had happened to her._

_Her cage may have the golden bars of a crown, but it was still a cage._

_"You pity me don't you."_

_He felt his face flush as he stammered out his denial._

_"It's alright, everyone pities me. Even Lady Sansa and Lady Catelyn." She turned to give him a half hearted smile. "It's not so bad really, I don't love Robb. And I don't blame him for not loving me...after all, he only married me for a bridge. We neither of us wanted this. And at least one of us has someone to love."_

_Sam felt uncomfortable, that she was being so open with him, so vulnerable. He wasn't quite sure what to say._

_"Robb's a fool."_

_They both jumped at the harsh, raspy voice that came from the doorway. Jon was standing there, looking at Roslin with such raw pain and anger and...hunger?_

_Sam looked between the two of them, feeling as though he was intruding on an intensely personal moment._

_"Ah...Jon. Excuse me, I should be going..." Sam looked between the two of them one last time and then made a hurried exit._

He'd often wondered what would have happened if he'd stayed, if his prescence that day would have prevented their affair or if it would have been inevitable that they would give in to their desires.

He would ask himself that, and then he would ask himself if he would have wanted to prevent it.

* * *

King Robb greeted him warmly upon his arrival. Sam looked around the courtyard, but Roslin wasn't there. He didn't ask, but it seemed that Robb already knew who he was looking for.

"My wife is in her rooms, she hasn't been well I'm afraid. No doubt she will be pleased to see you later."

Sam nodded and followed him into the keep.

After he'd finished discussing business with the King, he returned to his rooms to find Roslin standing by the window.

She turned to him as he shut the door.

"Tell me." She said, her eyes already rimmed red with grief. "Tell me."

And so he tells her.

A/N 2: So.  
Two more chapters, and then we'll be done.  
Ya'll are gonna hate me for chapter 6. Just saying.


	5. Chapter 5: Benjen

A/N: So this is rather short.  
And I probably could do more.  
But I felt like this was good.

* * *

_"Now remember to stand straight, that's it, shoulders back. Keep your legs apart, good, now draw the string back until your hand touches your face. Good, you've got it, now just aim and release."_

_Benjen released and watched as his arrow flew straight...into the very edge of the target.  
He sighed and turned to give his instructor a baleful look._

_"Hey now," Uncle Jon laughed. "At least you hit the target this time."_

_Benjen huffed in frustration. "It's no use, I'm never going to be good at this."_

_"Never say never Ben," His Uncle said, placing his hands on Benjen's shoulder's as he knelt in front of him. "Keep practicing. You hit the edge of the target today. Keep going and you'll keep hitting it closer and closer to the center until, finally, you hit it right in the middle. And then the next time I come visit, you'll be able to show me how good you've gotten."_

_Benjen smiled, "You really think I can do it Uncle Jon?"_

_Uncle Jon ruffled his hair and grinned as he said, "I believe you can do anything."_

* * *

There was a sharp _Thwack!_ as another arrow hit the center of the target.

Benjen walked over and began pulling them out. He'd been in the training yard for hours, Edd had long since given up on pulling him away, Olyvar was in the library with his books, and Arya had only stayed to watch him for a little while before running off to the Godswood.  
His siblings were all dealing with Uncle Jon's death relatively well, but then they didn't know the truth, Olyvar and Arya, they didn't know.

They didn't know that it was their father they'd lost, not their uncle.

Benjen knew.  
Benjen knew the truth.

He wasn't sure when exactly the truth began to dawn on him. It had been a niggling in the back of his mind, a sub-conscious thought that something wasn't right.  
But once the thought emerged to the forefront during lessons one day, he'd immediately begun to pay attention.  
And he began to see.

He began to see the way his Grandmother was colder towards him and Olyvar and Arya.  
How there was a hesitation in his father's praise for him compared to his praise for Edd.  
How his mother was a different person when his Uncle came to court, how her eyes would shine when she looked at him.  
How his Uncle would look at her.  
And then he looked in the mirror.

It had been only a year since he'd come to know, to truly know.  
And now his father, his real father, was dead.  
And he'd never even had the chance to tell him he knew.


	6. Chapter 6: Broken Things part I

A/N:

Okay so first off: I now have a beta!  
Yay!  
Thanks to Koby for helping me out.  
Now, something he pointed out to me that maybe not everyone will understand.  
As a nurse, something I have learned is that in the delivery room there are several different positions for birthing.  
One of these is for the mother to sit in a semi-reclined position. This postion is actually easier to push in.  
Also, I split this last chapter in two because it was getting too long.  
Anyway, enjoy the angst and try not to hate me too much.

* * *

It's a year after Jon's death.

Roslin is still a shadow of the woman he had come to know, the woman who had been his brother's lover, the mother to both his and Jon's children. Only the children seem to be able to bring that old spark back into her eyes.

Jeyne is pregnant with their third child. He wonders if it will be a girl this time.

Life is moving forward, the children growing, Roslin is teaching Bethany to read, Jeyne's stomach is swelling, and then suddenly it stops.

It stops when a message comes to him saying that Jeyne has gone into labor three months early.

* * *

He is by her side for a whole day and night as she screams with pain, her life blood leaving her as she struggles to bring this child into the world.

The maester has pulled him to the side to tell him that he may have to choose between Jeyne's life and the child's when Roslin comes into the birthing room, pulling her cloak off as she sits beside Jeyne and take her hands in hers.

"It'll be alright Jeyne." She says, her voice calm and clear. "You can do this."

Jeyne looks at her for a long moment then sits herself up and begins to push again.

Robb is sitting behind Jeyne holding her up against his chest. Jeyne is holding onto her hands so tight it feels as though they will break.

There is so much blood.

Deep down, Roslin knows there is no way that her husband's lover will survive this birth. By the look of anguish on Robb's face, he knows as well.

When Jeyne finally gives one last push and the babe slides free with a loud cry, she falls back against Robb's chest with a tired laugh.

"Jon," She says, looking Roslin in the eye. "We'll name him Jon."

And then she closes her eyes for the last time.

Robb buries her at the spot by the gardens that she had created, the spot that had been theirs.

He doesn't leave his rooms for two weeks after the burial.

* * *

Roslin brings Jeyne's children to Winterfell to stay.

She rocks Jon to sleep at night when his fretful cries fill the nursery, she comforts Brandon and Roland and sees to the business of Winterfell as her husband grieves for the woman he loved.

The people think that she is either a fool or the strongest, most kind hearted lady they've ever known.

They don't know that she only does for her husband what he had done for her not a year before.

* * *

It makes Robb sick; the way some of his bannermen immediately begin pushing their daughters forward the moment he leaves mourning.

Edd is recently betrothed to Lord Manderly's granddaughter Wylda, and his other sons are too young. It seems that certain of his bannermen have decided that since they cannot ensnare his sons they will ensnare him.

Roose Ryswell is especially persistent, parading his daughter Briony around like a breeding mare.

He ignores all of it.

They don't understand. They can't understand. What he had with Jeyne had been love; it was true and good and irreplaceable.

He is married to Roslin, but Jeyne was the keeper of his heart just as Jon was the keeper of hers.

And wolves mate for life.

It is his own folly as well as Roslin's that he turns a blind eye to the whisperings among his lords. It is because of his ignorance that he misses the signs.

Then Bolton blindsides him in council and the world is suddenly turned on its head.

* * *

"Your Grace, I understand that we need to discuss the Ironborn, but there is another matter that Lords Ryswell, Karstark and I wish to bring to your attention."

Robb rubbed the bridge of his nose, the ache was back, and his crown was beginning to weigh on him. "And what would that be Lord Bolton?"

"The fact that three of your wife's children are not yours."

Robb freezes and there is dead silence in the room before Lord Umber leaps to his feet with a roar. "You'd better know what you're talking about Lord Leech! That is your Queen you're accusing!"

Bolton is looking at him, and Robb sees the flash of understanding in his eyes. '_He knows I know…'_ and then Lord Ryswell speaks.

"We have witnesses who can attest to the fact that the Queen kept a lover. And I don't know why we should be surprised by that. It wouldn't be the first time a Southron Queen was caught in adultery."

Umber sputters for a moment, "What witnesses? Who are these rakes and where did you find them?"

Bolton spoke again, his voice like ice water pouring over Robb's skin. "Why, right here in the King's own keep. Certain of Queen Roslin's servants have come forward."

The lords are silenced by this revelation and Robb clears his throat before asking slowly, "And whom do they say is the father of my children?"

Bolton meets his eyes calmly, not a flicker of shame or embarrassment at revealing his family's secrets. "Why, your own half-brother your grace; the former Lord Commander of the Night's Watch: Jon Snow."

"Stark," Robb corrects. "Jon was a Stark."

Bolton bows his head in acknowledgement.

"Are you certain your sources are correct, Lord Bolton?" Robb says, trying to regain some control.

Bolton smiles that eerie, tight lipped grimace of his. "Aye, your grace, I am very certain."

He isn't sure what to do but before he can decide upon the words to say that will make this all disappear, Dacey is on her feet and she says the words that seal Roslin's fate. "Your Grace, allow myself and Lord Umber to conduct our own investigation. Lord Bolton will show us his so called proof," She spits the word out as though it is poison, "and we will interview his witnesses and then ascertain whether or not these…rumors have merit."

Robb can see that none of his lords truly believe what Bolton and Ryswell are saying, but he is sick with the knowledge that they soon will. Dacey's investigation will only turn up more evidence against Roslin.

And yet, there is nothing he can do, is there?

"I honestly do not see any reason to even investigate, Lady Mormont. It seems to me that it would be a waste of time and energy on your part."

His lords nod their heads, murmuring in assent, and then Bolton speaks out. "Is that so? It seems to me your grace that you are afraid of what will be proven by such an investigation."

The room grows silent once more.

'_So this is it. He's backed us into a corner. Gods Roslin, how am I going to protect you now?'_

"Your grace," Dacey begins, her voice like steel. "Allow me to clear the Queen's name for this leech. It would be my pleasure."

Robb can only give his consent.

When Dacey and Smalljon come to him, faces white and fists clenched he simply sits down and allows them to send guards to Roslin's room.

He has never felt so weak. He is a coward, allowing his lords to dictate his Queen's fate. But how can he defend her?

How can he save her without appearing to be weak in the way that Robert Baratheon was?

All he can think about is the day that Stannis' witch burned Cersei and Jaime Lannister alive and he feels sick.

* * *

Sansa reads the letter for the fifth time. "I don't believe it."

"I'm surprised as well," Willas states. "All these years and no one knew."

"People did know. I knew. My mother knew. Robb knew. We all knew, Willas."

Her husband looked at her in surprise. "You never told me…"

"I swore to her I wouldn't tell anyone. But no, what I cannot believe is that my brother is allowing this to happen. What is he thinking?"

"He is most likely thinking that to come to her defense would paint him as weak. He is king, Sansa, and he must uphold the law which, in this case, means condemning Roslin."

Sansa put her head in her hands. "Condemning her for the same sins he committed? How is that fair, Willas?"

"You and I both know that the world is unfair, and Robb keeping Jeyne as his mistress is not the same as Roslin bearing Jon's children and passing them off as Robb's in the eyes of the people."

"He doesn't have to kill her though. Gods Willas, if she is condemned to death…"

"Write to him. I'm certain he doesn't want to kill her either. He just needs to be encouraged to do the right thing."

* * *

Benjen knows his mother is going to die. His father, no, his uncle is surrounded by self-righteous lords arguing over her fate. Lady Dacey and the Umbers' are the only ones asking for mercy, while the others have sided with Lord Bolton.

Lord Bolton and Lord Karstark have already begun to parade their daughters, Roksana and Alaina, as potential replacements.

They're all fools. No one can replace his mother.

His mother was not just a wife; she was not just a mother.

She was a Queen.

She'd ruled the North by her husband's side, hearing grievances and managing the kingdom when the king was away.

Roksana Bolton and Alaina Karstark could never do that.

The servants are unsure how to behave around him and his siblings, but Edd jumps to their defense whenever a slight is made.

Arya is angry, she refuses to speak to fath- Uncle Robb and she runs to the Godswood and stays there for hours.

Olyvar doesn't speak.

Bethany cries for mother, not understanding why her father has locked her away.

Benjen knows that, even if their mother survives, their family will never be the same.

* * *

"I'm sorry."

Roslin looks up from her needlework to find her husband standing in the doorway.

"I tried to protect you, but I was so blind to Bolton's actions…He was already ahead of me and there is truly nothing I can do."

She sets her work aside, "Isn't there? You are King Robb. If you wish for this to end, all you have to do is say so."

"It's not that simple and you know it."

She has always known that her husband worried about what his bannermen thought of him more than he should. In some ways it was a good thing, it made him listen, but now…now when her very life and the future of her children depended on it, it wasn't appreciated.

"I suppose you must do what you think is best, then."

Robb looked at her helplessly. "If I could change it I would." He said, and then turned to leave.

"Robb," She called. "May I at least see them?"

He nodded. "I'll bring them in after the trial tomorrow."


	7. Chapter 7: Broken Things part II

A/N:

So this got a little long, so I am going to have to do a chapter 8 as well.  
Also, I lied.

* * *

_She wakes to the feel of lips pressing kisses to her shoulders and neck, a strong, calloused hand stroking her abdomen, a thumb drawing circles beneath her breast._

_This is a dream of course._

_Those lips will never again kiss hers; those hands will never again touch her body._

_Still, she rolls over into his embrace and kisses him fully._

_This is a dream, but what does that matter?_

"_Good morning." He whispers against her lips._

_Roslin smiles slowly. "Good morning."_

"_I was thinking," Jon said as he pressed another kiss to her shoulder. "That today, you and I and the children might go riding together. Take a picnic to the wolfswood?"_

_Roslin paused. This was a memory, she remembered this conversation. It was the morning she'd told him…_

_Yes._

_She had thought for a moment before saying yes that morning, but she'd come to the conclusion that no one would find anything odd about the king's brother taking his nephews riding._

_And of course, with the King away on business, the Queen would go along with her children and her guest._

_She heard herself saying yes even as she thought it._

_She allowed herself to fall into the memory, reliving that sweet moment…_

"_But first, Jon, there is something I wish to tell you." She said as she grasped his hand._

_Jon looked at her, his brow furrowed in concentration. "What is it?"_

_She placed their joined hands over her abdomen. "I'm with child again. "_

_Jon's stunned face broke into one of his rare, glorious smiles._

"_Amazing," He whispered as he pressed a kiss to her mouth. "Perhaps this time it will be a girl." He mused._

_For a long moment it was lips meeting and hearts beating as one and then Roslin broke away with a laugh. "Jon, I thought we were going riding today!"_

_Jon growled as he moved to capture her lips again. "Not now. Right now, I am going to make love to the mother of my child."_

_He pushed her back into the pillows and it was lips meeting, hands touching, and hearts beating. Oh, how Roslin had missed this. In the back of her mind she knew this was only a dream, only a memory, but it was enough. On this night, it was enough._

_And then it changed._

_She moved her hand down his chest only to feel a sticky wetness. She pulled back to see blood on her hand, blood on his chest._

_Jon looked at her with sorrowful eyes, his lips mouthing something that might have been goodbye, but she could not hear, and then his face shifted and it was Robb and he was begging her for forgiveness and then the face shifted again and it was Roose Bolton laughing at her even as he wrapped his hands around her neck and squeezed and Gods, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe!_

Roslin jerked awake with a startled gasp.

There was a noise at the door and she turned to see her maids walking in with Lady Dacey behind them, her face a mask of aloofness.

"Your Grace, it's time."

* * *

Robb was sitting before the fireplace, a letter clenched in his hands.

The fire had burned out long ago and all that was left was the smoldering embers. His head hurt, he hadn't slept all night, his sister's voice warring with Lord Bolton's inside his mind.

"_If you do not execute her, my lord, what message will that send to your bannermen? If the King in the North cannot punish his own wife for her betrayal, how can he punish any traitors? You will seem weak, vulnerable."_

Bolton's voice was like ice in his head, whereas Sansa's was a burning flame.

"_What sort of man have you become Robb? That you would condemn Roslin for the same sins that you committed? Can you look her in the eye as you take her life? The man that gives the sentence must carry it out, you know that. You have your heir. You can let this go. You should have put an end to it in the first place; you knew what an investigation would turn up! And it was Lady Mormont and Lord Umber; they would have kept silent if you'd asked it of them! A king should be the master of his house, not his bannermen! And yet, here you are, letting Bolton push you around, you know that he is only doing this for himself."_

She was right. But Lord Bolton was right as well.

He could not appear weak before his bannermen. Still, Dacey and the Umbers were pleading for mercy; perhaps in the courtroom today he would find that those who wished for mercy would outnumber those who sought to see his wife dead.

He folded up Sansa's letter and placed it in his pocket, then rang for his squire.

It was time.

* * *

Benjen looked around the courtroom.

From his hiding place he could see everything. Arya huffed impatiently beside him, growling as Lords Bolton, Karstark, and Ryswell walked into the room.

Edd shushed her. "You can't make any noise Arya," He whispered under his breath, "If they find us, they'll make us leave."

Benjen had been surprised earlier, when Edd had told them his brilliant plan to get them into the trial so they could see what was happening. He'd been thoroughly ashamed when his brother reminded him that Mother was his mother too.

He hadn't realized that he'd been building up a wall in his head between himself and his siblings and Edd and Beth until that moment.

Now, here they are, three children waiting to hear whether or not their mother would be allowed to live.

* * *

Roslin walks into the courtroom wearing Stark grey and white and Frey blue. She is wearing her crown and she walks with poise and grace. Her face is a mask of calm and she is every inch a Queen.

It will be a Queen they condemn today, not some coward.

At least she knows the children are not in the room, her strength would crumble if they were forced to be witnesses to this farce.

* * *

There is a constant buzzing in Robb's head, a persistent ache at the nape of his neck. He can see by the looks on his lords' faces as Lord Bolton lays out his evidence that there is no sympathy for his wife in this room.

When all is said and done, and the evidence has been laid out, Robb stands before his court and says the words that will condemn himself as well as his wife.

"In accordance with the laws of the North; I, Robb Stark, King in the North do hereby condemn thee to death for crimes against the crown."

A feral sounding shriek echoed through the hall and Robb turned to see Arya bolting toward Roslin.

"No, No, No!" she screamed, her face red with anger and tears. Dacey moved to grab Arya, and dragged her from the hall, still screaming for her mother.

Roslin had gone white at the sight of her daughter, her knees seemed to give way and then Edd and Benjen were there, their arms wrapped around her, Edd screaming at him (_I Hate You! I Hate You!)_ and Robb had never felt so disgusted with himself.

He had planned to bring the children to see her himself, but instead he sends them with his squire.

* * *

He is sitting before the fire with a drink in his hand, his intention is to get as drunk as possible. He is pouring himself another glass when Dacey bursts into the room with Smalljon Umber following in her wake.

Before he can speak, she punches him in the face and he nearly falls out of his chair with the force of it.

"I have followed you into battle, I have fought by your side, I have been willing to lose my life to save yours and have nearly done so many times. I have always been proud to serve at your side, but today I have never been more sickened by anyone." Her eyes are like burning embers and her voice like ice. "And you call yourself King in the North. What have you done?"

Robb struggles to his feet. "I couldn't say no to them, it would have made me weak in their eyes. And I'm not the only one at fault!" Dacey snorts and Smalljon looks away in disgust. "No, I'm not; if you hadn't insisted on doing your own investigation I could have held off Bolton. You think I didn't know about Roslin and Jon? I've known since the moment Benjen was placed in my arms. And we were fine, it was fine, and now you and Bolton had to go and ruin it!"

He's drunk, he knows he's drunk and he's not making any sense, blaming others for his own folly, but he cannot bear to face the truth that he has just condemned the mother of his children to death.

"You think we would not have kept silent?" Dacey rages. "All you had to do was tell us to keep silent and we would have done so! We are not Boltons or Karstarks that we would betray your secrets!"

She continues to rant, pacing back and forth in front of him as she rages but his mind is elsewhere; because in his drunkenness, he has hit upon an idea.

And it just might work.

"Would you still do it? Would you still do whatever I asked?"

He grabs hold of her shoulders with such force that Smalljon places his hand on his sword in warning, but he is focused on Dacey's face.

"Aye." She says warily. "Aye, I would."

Robb breathes a sigh of relief. "Good. Because, I have an idea."

* * *

She cannot sleep.

The moon shines down through her window and she is wide awake, thinking of her last moments with her children.

Tomorrow she dies.

She wonders if Robb will swing the sword himself, if he will be able to.

The sound of the door opening startles her and she moves to hide.

Could it be that Bolton didn't want to take any chances that Robb might spare her? That he had sent an assassin, someone to ensure her death?

She grabs hold of a candlestick and swings, but the figure moves out of the way, grabs her by the arm and then covers her mouth when she attempts to scream.

"Hush my Lady," Dacey whispers, "I'm here to help."

Roslin relaxes and then listens as Dacey tells her of the plan to smuggle her out of the castle and take her to Bear Island. Robb's plan. He hasn't abandoned her after all.

* * *

Smalljon is waiting for them in the Godswood with the horses, they are a several leagues out when Roslin breathes in and almost cries with relief. They'd made it.

But the thought comes too soon.

They ride straight into an ambush, Bolton's men surrounding them, swords leveled at their throats.

"Lady Mormont, I expected you to arrive much earlier than this."

"Let us go Bolton, you have what you want!" Dacey snarls. "She is no longer Queen and she will be exiled!"

"I'm afraid I cannot do that, Lady Roslin must pay for her crimes. Come now, hand her over."

Roslin can see it all now, there was never an ending to this story in which Bolton did not win.

Dacey draws her sword, "You will have to kill me first!" she cries, but Roslin lays a hand on her arm and says "No."

Dacey looks at her in shock but Roslin whispers earnestly, "Whether you die defending me or not, Bolton will win and I will die today. Please Dacey, my children…promise me you will protect them. That is the only way I will have peace."

Dacey nods.

* * *

Robb almost falls to his knees when Bolton brings Roslin back. He feels sick to his stomach, he cannot go through with this; he cannot kill her.

Roslin breathes. In, out, and in again. She is on her knees before her husband, her king, waiting for the blow that will end her life. She pictures the first time she held each of her children in her arms, their first steps, their first words…

He stands in front of her, Ice in his hands and gods but it has never felt this heavy before. He raises it twice before turning and walking away.

She pictures the first time she saw Jon, the first time he'd made her laugh, the first time they'd kissed, the first time they'd made love, the first time he'd held Benjen, he'd been so happy that day…

He braces his hands against the wall of the keep and listens as Bolton calls for his sword, he cannot bear to watch so he closes his eyes and clenches his fists… the blood is rushing to his head and every beat of his heart echoes in his head as her name, _Roslin, Roslin, Roslin…_ over and over….

Suddenly, in her mind's eye, Roslin can see him standing there in front of her. Just as he'd been the last time she'd seen him before he'd died. Jon smiles at her and reaches a hand out to her. In her mind, she reaches out to take his hand. "Jon…" She whispers, and then Bolton swings the sword.

* * *

Sansa arrives, three weeks too late to stop him from making the worst mistake of his life. She doesn't say anything, she just looks at him and takes his children into her arms; his children who hate him now, hate him for killing their mother.

She stays for as long as she can, caring for the children while he shuts himself in his chambers and drinks himself into oblivion.

* * *

_He's chasing Jeyne across a meadow, laughing as he catches up with her. They tumble to the ground together and she laughs as he presses kisses to her face and neck._

_His hands roam her body as he pulls her on top of him and he smiles as Jeyne sighs against him._

_Suddenly she gasps and there is a sword sticking through her chest. Jeyne falls forward onto his chest to reveal Jon standing behind her, bloody sword in hand. "An eye for an eye, yes brother?" Jon asks, face contorted with rage._

_Robb looks down at the body in his arms, and Jeyne's pale face morphs into Roslin's and he is screaming._

* * *

A/N:_  
_

So...  
I'm going to go hide now.


	8. Chapter 8: Epilogue

A/N: I decided to do an epilogue, because I felt like the fall out from Roslin's death needed to be addressed. This is very depressing by the way. I do hope y'all like it though.

I just want to thank everyone who has stuck with this story to the bitter end. Y'all are awesome.

* * *

It's three months after Sansa leaves, ten since Roslin's death, when Bolton and his supporters begin to push for him to marry again. Karstark had mentioned the idea of finding him another wife only a week after the execution, but Robb's rage at the suggestion had caused his lords to keep silent on the matter until a suitable amount of time had passed.

Robb knows that he must choose another wife, if only to silence them, but he will do so on his terms. Bolton will not win this time.

He calls Robett Glover to see him.

"Your daughter, Erena, she is of marriageable age, yes?"

Lord Glover looks as though he wants to say no, but he answers truthfully. "Yes Your Grace, she is."

"And she is not betrothed? She is not promised?"

Lord Glover hesitates, "She is close to Beren Tallhart…there seems to be an interest there…"

Robb nods, "But no betrothal."

"No, Your Grace."

"Good. Then Lord Glover, I ask for your daughter's hand in marriage."

* * *

When Fath- Uncle Robb announces that he will be taking Erena Glover as his Queen, Benjen is torn between anger and relief. He is angry, as are his siblings that his Uncle would wed so soon after his mother's death. It has not even been a year. But he has seen the hunger in the eyes of Bolton and his supporters, the men who circle around his family like a pack of starving wolves, and he knows that his Father (_Uncle!)_ had no choice.

At least it is not Bolton's daughter, Roxanna, or Alaina Karstark.

At least Bolton will not get what it was he'd wanted out of Benjen's mother's death.

As it is, he shushes Arya when she rages against Lady Erena, tells her that she doesn't know what she's talking about and that she must be kind to the new Queen. He tries to spend time with Olyvar, tries to get him to open up, to express some of the grief that he is feeling. But his little brother has hardly spoken a word since their mother's death, choosing instead to occupy himself with his books.

He holds Little Beth close when she crawls into his bed at night, crying because she does not understand why Mother is gone, too little to comprehend Death.

He cares for all of his little siblings as best he can, because he has always been the one to do so, has always been the one with the patience for the younger ones, and when he tosses and turns at night trapped in his own nightmares with tears running down his cheeks, it is Edd who shakes him awake and stays with him until the pain subsides.

No matter what has happened, they are still brothers. They are still Roslin's sons.

Their relationship with their Father may lie in pieces, but their bond as siblings is stronger and will not fail.

* * *

It is a cool evening when Robb Stark, King in the North, weds Erena Glover. He weds her in the Godswood, at the foot of the Heart Tree, the last rays of the setting sun giving light to their vows.

She is a pretty girl, all pale skin and wide, grey eyes and long, dark brown hair, and Robb knows that, in marrying her, he is breaking the heart of many a young boy who had set his heart and mind on her quick wit, fair face, and bright smile.

He vows to love her and cherish her and he sees the fear and doubt in the eyes of her father and brother.

He removes the mailed fist from around her shoulders and replaces it with the grey direwolf and he sees the anger in the faces of Bolton and Karstark.

He kisses his young bride and he sees the anger, hurt, and longing in the eyes of Beren Tallhart.

He sees, because he cannot afford to be blind to anything. Not again.

In the weeks following his marriage there are more feasts than necessary, but the people want to forget the tragedy surrounding the death of the first Queen, so they throw themselves into the celebration of this new young beauty who has become the Queen in the North.

She is a pretty thing, they say, born and bred in the North. She will not be unfaithful. She is one of them.

* * *

Robb sits on the dais, half listening to Lord Umber's tale of the stag he'd killed in a hunt the week before as he watches his young bride spin around the dance floor in Beren Tallhart's arms.

Erena throws her head back as she laughs at something young Beren has said, and Robb sees Roose Bolton watching her with a calculating gaze.

He sees it this time.

* * *

Erena was sitting in front of her looking glass, brushing her long, dark hair when he entered her room.

He stands behind her and takes the brush from her hands, brushing out her long, dark locks in a mimic of the way Roslin used to brush Arya and Bethany's hair.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't able to dance with you this evening, the Lords can be quite demanding when they have things they wish to discuss."

Erena met his eyes in the mirror and gave him a small, sideways smile. "It's alright, my Lord. I understand that you have duties."

"Indeed." Robb said, "I was pleased to see that you did enjoy yourself though."

Erena's hands tightened around the small ribbon in her hands almost imperceptibly. Robb continued, "Young Beren is a fine dancer, much better than I am, I must confess. You've known each other long?"

"Since we were children, my Lord."

"Hmm…"

Robb finished brushing his wife's hair, and as he set the brush back on her dresser he said, "I was not the only one who took an interest in seeing you so happy, my darling. Lord Bolton seemed to find your dancing abilities quite enchanting."

Erena's face went deathly pale. "Indeed, my Lord?"

"Indeed." Robb placed his hands on either side of her and bent down to whisper in her ear. "I have no illusions that you are in any way pleased with our marriage, my Lady. But I think you would prefer to have Beren Tallhart's head on his shoulders. If I were you, I would separate myself from him immediately."

He placed a kiss on her cheek, and then left the room.

Beren Tallhart leaves for White Harbor the next day, and word comes to them that his ship set sail for Braavos.

* * *

It is three months later when word comes again, saying that Beren Tallhart was slain by mercenaries in Pentos. Erena does not flinch, and though her face goes a little pale, she shows no other signs of grief. Not in front of Bolton, not in front of him. But she locks herself in her chambers that night, and Robb does not visit her that night, or for several nights after.

* * *

"Such sad news, don't you think, Your Grace? He was such a fine young man, too young to die."

"Indeed Lord Bolton, but the world is a cruel place and the good often die young."

"How is her majesty the Queen taking the news? I understand that she and Young Tallhart were quite…close."

"It is hard for her, yes, to lose one whom she viewed as a brother. They had known one another since they were children. Beren was fostered by Lord Glover, didn't you know?"

"No, Your Grace, I did not. It makes sense of course, that they were raised together, as she always seemed so… familiar with him."

"Lord Bolton, is there something you wish to tell me or are you quite finished?"

"…No, Your Grace, there is nothing."

* * *

Robb sends a package to Pentos and a group of men receive a rather large payment for the murder of a young Westerosi man.

He had not had any illusions as to Bolton's intentions. The man had seen a crack in the wall, and he would have dug at it until it became a hole. Bolton would have found a way to bring Beren back, to bring about the end of Erena. The man was determined to see his children and grandchildren on the Northern throne.

If Robb feels any guilt at the boy's death, he pushes it aside with memories of Roslin's death and reminds himself that he did it to save Erena from the same fate. Surely Beren would have understood.

* * *

Erena is a good step-mother, kind and gentle but with a playful side that marks her as a friend or playmate rather than a step-mother.

When Edd remarks on it, Benjen reminds him that she is after all, only a few years older than they are.

Bethany especially adores her, following her around babbling to her as little children often do. It hurts to know that Bethany will forget their mother. That in time, Erena will be the only mother she has any memory of.

It is Arya who snaps at her little sister when Beth slips and calls Erena 'Mama' the first time. Arya slaps her as she yells, "She is not our mother! Don't you ever call her that again! Our mother was Roslin Stark and she was murdered by your father!" Arya grabs Bethany by her small shoulders and shakes her, "Don't you ever call her that again, do you hear me?"

Bethany is sobbing when Benjen comes rushing in and helps Erena pull Arya off of her. Erena gathers his baby sister up in her arms and quickly leaves the room, leaving Benjen to punish Arya.

Between him and Edd, Arya is made to understand that she is never to touch Bethany like that again.

Benjen wonders if perhaps their bond as siblings is not as strong as he thought.

* * *

When word comes from White Harbor that an assassin was slain attempting to kill Wylda Manderly, Edd's betrothed, Robb knows that Bolton is becoming desperate.

Unfortunately, the assassin is unable to tell them who hired him due to the fact that young Wylda keeps a knife under her pillow. Robb allows himself a small smile of amusement at that, Edd will have his hands full with that one, but he is quickly sobered by the realization that it is becoming harder to protect his family.

He knows what is coming next, and he is unsurprised when Bolton offers his son, Ratimir (and how appropriate is it that a Bolton be given such a name), as a potential suitor for Bethany. Robb does not even bother to look up from the letter he is writing as he replies, "My daughter is three, Lord Bolton. Your son is eight. If he is not considered too young for talk of betrothal, Bethany is." Robb finishes his letter and addresses it, handing it to his squire when he is finished. "Will that be all, Lord Bolton?"

A year ago, Robb would have thought that Bolton was unmoved by what he had said, but now he sees the rage burning in the older man's eyes.

Bolton stares at him for a long moment before bowing slowly as he says, "Yes, Your Grace, that is all. Thank you for your time."

Robb knows he is going to have to do something, and soon.

* * *

When Erena comes to him, he is more than a little surprised. She is sitting on the edge of his bed when he returns to his rooms for the night, and he stands in the doorway staring for a moment as he tries to think of what to say.

"I need to have a child." She says, and Robb feels as though someone has dumped cold water over his body.

"Erena," he says as he moves to stand in front her. "You do not have to do this. I will not require it of you. We did our duty on our wedding night, I will not touch you again if you do not –"

"Do not pretend that you do this for me. My Lord, we both know that you have three bastards by Lady Westerling and Queen Roslin had three by your brother. You have two legitimate heirs to your throne, only one of whom is a boy. I _must_ have a child if we are to stop Lord Bolton from achieving his ends."

For the first time Robb looks at her, _really_ looks at her, and he thinks that maybe he'd been wrong to write her off as merely a child.

If she keeps her eyes tightly shut, he does not mention it, and if he whispers a name that is not hers into her hair, she does not say a word. They neither of them love the other and Robb is reminded of the night Bethany was conceived, when he and Roslin were both drunk and lonely and their lovers were too far away to reach…

Roslin had imagined another man in his place then, just as Erena does now. He wonders if that says something about him, that neither of his wives ever loved him.

When they announce Erena's pregnancy four months later, Robb watches as Bolton makes eye contact with Karstark and Ryswell and the three of them leave the hall amidst the loud cheers from the other guests. Robb takes a long drink from his glass and ponders his opponents' next move.

* * *

When Benjen tells him that he wishes to take the black, Robb is silent for a long time. Ben is only twelve, far too young to make such a decision. But when he says as much, his son looks at him with serious eyes that remind him so much of Jon's its startling and says, "I will be a ranger, as my father was before me. It is best that I leave now, as I am sure you are aware, Your Grace."

This is when Robb realizes that he has lost them.

He has lost them all.

* * *

It is a week before Benjen and Olyvar are supposed to leave; Samwell Tarly is on his way to take Ben to Castle Black and Uncle Willas's brother Garlan is riding north to take Olyvar to Highgarden, when Arya runs away.

Benjen is not surprised.

He's not surprised either when she gets caught by the Manderly's trying to smuggle herself onto a ship at White Harbor. For all that his sister is fearless, she doesn't have the ability to accomplish running away to the Free Cities. Not yet at least.

His uncle hugs her tightly when she is returned, but she makes no move to return the embrace and Uncle Robb lets out a resigned sigh before letting her go and handing her over into Lady Mormont's care.

The next morning, Lady Dacey informs them that Arya will be leaving with her to go to Bear Island. Arya seems pleased by this, and Benjen is relieved. He will not have to worry about his brother and sister when he is at the wall, they will be well cared for. He does however worry for Edd and Beth. He says as much, and Edd laughs as he slaps him on the shoulder. "Don't worry little brother; if Old Bolton tries to assassinate me I'm sure my Lady Wylda will be happy to stab his eyes out!"

Benjen laughs, but his brother's words are in no way reassuring.

* * *

The day Jon's children leave (Robb doesn't fool himself anymore into thinking that he can still call them 'his') Robb is standing in front of his throne when Dacey, Sam and Garlan come to him.

"Look after them, please." He asks, "For their mother's sake if not mine."

"We will take care of them my King," Dacey replies. "Bolton will not be able to touch them."

After their horses disappear over the horizon, Dacey and Sam turning north while Garlan turns south, Robb makes his way down to the crypt where he'd laid Roslin to rest.

He sits in front of her tomb and weeps as he begs her forgiveness. He doesn't lie to himself, doesn't imagine himself to have been in love with her, it had always been Jeyne whom he loved, but he'd always respected the woman who had been his Queen. And yet, he had shown her nothing but disrespect, both in her last days and in death. He had failed her. He had failed her children.

He wondered if things might have been different if he had never met Jeyne at the Crag. Love was such a narrow theme…perhaps if it wasn't, life would not have to end this way.

* * *

A/N: And there it is.

Just FYI, Erena and Beren are not OC's, they are actual minor/background characters in the series. :D


End file.
